For You I Will
by prismdreams
Summary: Warren Worthington III wanted to be more to his friends and family than a man with great wealth and power. He wanted someone to see there's more to him than just his inheritance. Ignoring many calls to Xavier's school he chose to live alone, it was better this way. He didn't plan on what came next nor did he expect to feel the way he had. [WarrenxOC]
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**_ _I hope you guys like this one! I combined some familiar elements of the comics and made my own story from it. Please let me know what you think! Bye! :)_

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"Freak. Look at her go, thinks she can just get away."

"I know. Why is she even bothering to show up? She knows what we'll do. Oh, look she's running away."

"Eh, come on Marne, tomorrow's another day. Let's go, Daddy's got the Jag. We'll deal with the freak of nature later."

"I can't stand that girl. Jen, why is she even bothering? She'll never be normal. She'll never be one of us."

"Girl, let's get outta here before her crazy father sees us. Man, that guy is terrifying."

"You're right; tomorrow we'll really make her pay for showing her face."

The girls retreated back the opposite direction clinking their stiletto heals as the sound dissipated in the distance. There was rustling from tree bushes and heavy breathing coming from the corner of the block.

Amelia Samuels ducked behind the burgundy fence in complete and utter terror. Her rather enlarged eyes squeezed shut and she breathed in fresh oxygen. Things were slightly less tense; for now that is. No matter what she did _they_ just wouldn't stop. Jennifer Willis and Marne Sandstorm were the culprits that were used to tormenting people that didn't belong to their elk. Simple mean girl tactics they learned in high school that apparently hadn't left. If you were not with them, you definitely were against them. Not that they had any other side. Amelia feared for her life every time she went outside. It was like vicious cycle that just would not see an end.

Amelia wiped the tears that numbly fell from her eyes. Nothing was good enough anymore. Self-mutilation was how she dealt with it. She slid up her sleeve tracing with her fingertips the scars that illuminated her wrist trailing down to the crease of her elbow. The other wrist held roughly the same amount of lashes. Seeing the image just increased the flow of her tears. She didn't know any other way. If only she wasn't like this. Her life would be so… she'd give anything to be mundane. Boring and just plain. But she was different. There was no denying it anymore. She hated her eyes; the golden, pale yellow eyes that would glow every time she became agitated; overwhelmed. In pain. She couldn't control when they would change. They just had a mind of their own that was unbridled. There wasn't any way she could hone or bundle this. It drove her mad and sick when she tried.

She had tired everything to be rid of it. Everything. But nothing had sufficed and she was left with the most dangerous option. She had wanted another life. She was born wrong. So many times she wished for another chance. But nobody ever gave her one. Maybe the alternative will make it better. At least bring some peace of mind; maybe just peace in general.

Amelia's head jerked abruptly. Her senses kicking into overdrive. She overheard her father screaming again in slandered slurs before the busted, flimsy screen door swung open. His voice bellowed out another rank order and all she could think about was not being in his path. She hunched her shoulders and changed her hiding position immediately. The house was rusty and creaked all over. There was no mistaking the poverty covering the impression. The world would judge it as a shack, more like a barn you stored old shed tools in. You could hear footsteps trotting around the premises from miles away.

The dank and dirt-covered streets of the suburbs didn't help the situation. You couldn't walk anywhere without shards of glass bottles of Jim Beam smashed on every side walk. You can't help what you were born into, or where. Amelia had known this and believed it every second of her existence. It was just unbelievable how long of it she endured. It wasn't everybody else. Nothing about her day-to-day encounters compared with the normal college student who still lived at home. She tried to drift away as much as she could, but no matter what, people reminded her where she belonged. And it wasn't in New York of all places.

She always thought she was alone. But in the back of her mind, she questioned the reason behind it all. It was somewhere else. She didn't know where nor had she a clue. Nothing remotely good ever happened to her in recent years and she was beginning to accept herself for what she is. Who she is. She truly believed this was how she was going to suffer, but it would be a matter of time until she really did something about it. The deep cuts made her feel something strained. Something other than the pain and the outcast that was so embolden from the day she was born. Her mother couldn't handle it; she ran from her when she found out and her father, well, the only reason he stuck around was the money. Amelia and her father had been living off of the government since her father had been fired from his job at the lumberyard. He was strictly blue collar but it didn't last long; especially with his being a staunch and religious alcoholic. He started to drink even more after he had lost his war pension not long after they dropped him from lumber payroll.

Amelia was his only source of surviving. He put up with her being different so authorities won't take her away and do all sorts of vile experiments on her. You could chalk that up to his caring about her well-being, but it wasn't the case one bit. He needed her to foot the bill, pay for his liquor, and provide whatever they needed to live on. He used her, whatever she was to benefit his needs. He knew what she was but he didn't care. He treated her just like anyone else who knew and saw her. Like an alien. Someone foreign, who wasn't from around here. He abused her mentally as well as physically until her eyes had stopped changing. When she screamed for him to stop, he'd backhand her cheek without blinking and retreat back to his favorite chair. She'd always remember to close them since then to avoid reminding him. So she always hide behind her sunglasses. She always sat in the back of classroom so the teacher won't request she remove them. She had to hide. She thought of the home consequences if she didn't keep it a secret.

Amelia shuddered from all the memories she couldn't let go of. Was it time to finally end it? She licked her chapped lips and closed her eyes. Her fists balled up in fury. She took a deep breath and snuck out through the small hole in the fence. It was loosened since they moved and it practically fell off every time she escaped. But she always came back. Why did she?

"It's time to finally end this. I have to." She whispered into the sky.

Her words deceived her true emotions. She didn't want any of this, but it was the only way sadly.

Hoping maybe, for a small prayer. The sound of inevitability was too strong. Who would care? She had no angels on her side.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Hey! Hope you like this update. Let me know what you think of the story so far. Thank you! :)_

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Amelia rushed through the confines of the neighborhood in search of a tall, old building. It was New York after all. Most of the buildings in the area were built in the early 1920s, but there needed to be a sense of abandonment; loneliness radiating from it. The spur of the moment feeling kicked up her thought process rapidly. She was looking for a plan and fast. She needed a roof. It had to be secluded; empty. No witnesses and no turning back. Something quick, the perfect timing. She shook her head of the conscious that wouldn't leave her thoughts. It was already too late. She couldn't put up with anything. The freak power in her was too strong. This was the only answer. Being different had led her here. And this was where it was going to end.

She ran around the block until she was completely out of the suburbs. A hell she was waiting to permanently leave since she was captive... What drove her to come back and suffer wasn't in her blood anymore. There was nothing else she wanted more than stopping the madness. It was only going to get worse before anything else.

She rounded the corner until she saw a mostly blackened narrow building. No lights or clear signs of life. It was perfect. She needed to get to the roof. She looked up to see the top of the building. A good 40 feet. She prayed nobody fell in line with her. It wouldn't be a good thing to clash with anyone trying to get in her way.

As she rushed to the front fire escape she paused and saw someone coming out on the top floor. No dice. This was going to be harder than she thought. Amelia's hands felt as if they were on fire and were going to com-bust. Her eyes were lighting up like fireflies and she knew she was running out of time. Not this. Not here. She pushed her body forward to the front entrance.

Maybe if she went in when somebody gone out there was a chance. It was risky, but the only way. Her sunglasses were concealing the piercing golden glow of her eyes. She adjusted them and tried to calm down. She took a deep breath and waited. Surely there had to be somebody coming out. New Yorkers, even during the purely pitched-blackness still had visitors that never rested. It was a scary thought but it was all she could rely on. She needed to get to that roof somehow.

Just then, a young lady, wearing a tight blue dress went through the first door before entering the outside gate. She looked like she dropped something. Perfect, Amelia maneuvered away from the sides of the building and jogged to the front entrance. Running would be too suspicious. She doubted the woman would care but it was safer this way. The more inconspicuous, the better.

When Amelia opened the first gate, she paused. The woman, who was preoccupied with what she lost briefly picked up her head, then went back down to the floor. It seemed like she barely noticed anything else.

"Hey, oh wow, sorry to do this, I just dropped my phone, have you seen it anywhere?" the woman asked Amelia with a huff in her tone.

Amelia just saw the door open and that was all she could look at. If she could only get passed this woman. She was so close.

She gave up for a moment. Maybe if she offered to help she wouldn't be derailed.

Amelia tried to get up to the roof by helping the woman find her phone. She spotted it in the corner of the foyer and stepped inside. "There it is."

The girl looked and picked up the mobile with a sigh of relief. "Thanks, you going to the party?

Amelia asked back, "What party?

The woman looked at her with a raised eyebrow checking something on her phone. "Oh that idiot Jeremy's party. It's boring, I had to leave early because I had exams. But it's still going on. Uh, hate to be nosy but isn't it a little dark outside for shades?"

The woman gestured and Amelia's eyes immediately started glowing gold out of embarrassment. She covered her eyes, adjusting her shades quickly, "Oh, sorry, I gotta go."

Amelia moved as far away from her as she could until she felt the glow come to a stop. _Whew, now focus._

Once she was fully inside she debated whither to take the elevator or the stairs. The stairs would be more noisy and reverberate so she opted for the elevator. When she came to the elevator her shaky hands touched on the button as she waited anxiously. The ding made her jump out of her skin. She scurried as fast as she could inside, sinking to the back corner of the elevator. She almost fell to the ground when she closed her eyes. Her mind was reeling. Pieces of her thoughts becoming less and less important. All arguing thoughts subsided. Her plan remained in motion.

It was now and never as the elevator came to the top. Once the doors opened she ran up to the roof top and pushed in slow motion the crease of the door, breathing in the wind tunnel from the top. The strong breeze had smothered her but it wasn't going to derail anything.

She was here, it hit her finally. She was going to live. Did she want to do this? Tears began stinging her eyes suddenly. She came to her knees and crashed onto the dirty rubble of the ground. The scraps on her knees did nothing to her nerves. The warm, salty trails of emotion would not stop streaming from her eyes as everything hit her all at once. Was she going to go through with it? Could she? She balled her emotion until she felt her fingers come in contact with something sharp. A triangular glass shard so sharp it already cut deep across the inside of her palm. She looked at the crimson color, more glared hard at the blood as it dripped down. The goo hitting the rubble mixing in with it.

Her eyes were now glowing a deep red, almost matching her blood. She picked up the shard to examine it as more blood smeared through the transparency of the glass.

She began to hear strong noises from downstairs. Her eyes were glowing a deep maroon, even darker than they were before. Almost as if they were mixed with blackness. She could see it. Her life. A brand new one. Everything would change. As she dragged the sharpest edge of the glass in her side, she prayed for life. The illuminated neon red of her eyes flickered. She could feel her life power begin to falter.

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Downstairs, on the 5th floor of the building, Jeremy Singler's party was starting to get loud and boisterous. When everyone started to leave, Jeremy flopped down on his couch with a heavy sigh.

From the corner of his eye, his friend and colleague, Warren Worthington, came into view. His wavy blond hair falling in his eyes as he started to tidy things around the room. He picked up a lighter and jammed it inside his jean pocket. Jeremy watched him and laughed.

"Dude, quit that. Why you get one of your _maids_ to help us out? Everybody's abandoning me anyway." Jeremy said the last part out loudly on purpose.

Warren rolled his eyes and didn't have the heart to tell him the truth: he throws lame parties. It always ends the same. He drinks all the booze, gets the drunkest, tries to get his friends to out drink him, people lose interest. Warren took slight pity on his friend's little attempts at trying to impress people.

"Baby, give it a rest. Least Warren knows you're being a dick because you can again." Lydia, Jeremy's girlfriend said as she took a trash liner and began cleaning up.

Warren laughed. Jeremy looked between his friend and his girl as if saying "dude, come on."

"Hey she said it not me. But in all fairness..." Jeremy smacked the back of his neck against the head of the couch.

"Can it Worthington. You guys are so fucking ungrateful. You never like to have fun."

Warren smirked, "Sure, we all do, some of us just aren't a fan of the hangovers that follow. You know what to do with that. Hey, I'm gonna get some air."

"Sure, just leave too, along with everyone else. We all know you want to." Jeremy huffed as his girlfriend picked up more trash around him. She moved his legs up and he stared her oddly.

Warren looked at Lydia and she just waved him off silently telling him she'll handle him. Warren nodded and waved back after turning on his heel to head out the door.

That was enough excitement for now. He fixed the collar up on his extra large overcoat he wore to conceal his wings. It was the only way to hide his secrets. The ones only his father and a few people close to him found out by accident. In fact, he hadn't taken off the coat since he came to Jeremy's. He looked back at the door and something troubled him. It was something that has always plagued his thoughts and made him wonder who to trust.

Sometimes he really thought these guys were only his friends because of his money. They were, after all, poor college students living off of student loans and grants. Warren inherited the money from his father and barely had to work. He never needed to. He nevertheless was loyal with his time and volunteered at the hospital. It was one of the few things in his life that made him feel normal. And he enjoyed it as well. He hated when people assumed he was this rich kid who did nothing but sit around all day spending money left and right. But then again, there were the womanizing rumors starting at the hospital when a couple of the young interns started flirting with him. That was so far from the truth he just wanted to set everyone straight; but he didn't peoples' perceptions of him would change.

He came to get some air true, but really, he just wanted to go up to the roof to fly. His wings were killing him and he needed to stretch them out. Being bundled in a tough, wool overcoat wasn't feeling good after a few hours. It felt like if someone tied your arms behind your back stolidly in a straight line for a few hours. He just wanted to be free. Feel the cool rush of the wind through his feathers as he always did every night he flew. Flying back to his home sounded perfect right now. He suddenly got so revved up and ran up the stairs to the door that lead to the roof.

"Huh, that's odd." The door was opened slightly ajar. Usually people in the building closed it shut. Some roofs in New York were locked but Jeremy's super was so low key hardly anyone knew his name so it mostly stayed locked.

He shrugged and pushed open the door, turning around to close it shut. He had to be completely discreet if he was going to do this. He didn't want to take any stray chances.

When he turned, he couldn't believe his eyes.

A girl was crouched over in the corner near the edge of the roof laying in a pool of blood. The terror went to his eyes and he reacted almost instantly.

He panicked as he rushed to her side attempting to revive her. She had no pulse. He tried again and nothing. He then noticed that pressing on her stomach was making it worse. More blood spurt from her side and he quickly shed his overcoat tying the wound up, trying to close it. He had to stop the bleeding first. His wings were beginning to peak out from their confines of the straps. His coat sopped most of her blood. He began to shake and continued CPR, breathing some oxygen into her lungs. All the while speaking to her as if she were in a deep sleep.

"Come on now. Answer me. Come on, please." He cursed almost in a yelling manner. He thought for a second. He still had time.

He spread his wings, scooping her body in his arms, holding her securely. She was slipping, he had to be swift now.

"Stay with me. Stay... please." He whispered.

He looked down on her but she was still silent. No motion, no moaning, no life. But he could feel her.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews, here's more! Working on the next chapters. Let me know what you all think. :)_

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 **Chapter 3: Heaven After All**

The room was quiet, that was until Amelia gasped slightly as her eyes fluttered open. At first, she blinked hard, her eyelids relaxing as she squinted at the harsh light in the room. She surveyed her surroundings. None of which she recognized. She tried to sit up. It was the hardest thing she could ever remember doing, like pushing herself through a million pounds of dirt. Her body felt like someone held it there with an anvil. Her head started to pound and she sunk back again. Her eyes were starring at the skylight of the penthouse. Penthouse? She rose strongly, barely halfway off the bed. She was...where was she? This wasn't her home. This didn't feel like heaven or hell either. What the hell happened last night? None of this felt familiar to her and it isn't enough the headache pounded even louder, piercing her skull through her brain leaving everything muddled; clouding her once semi-together thoughts.

And then it came to her, had she been kidnapped? The thought buzzed through her fuzzy mind as she tried once more to sit up but the pounding of her forehead wouldn't cease. She heard noises, coming from outside of the room. Off in the distance. She tried again with all she had to push her body but nothing. It was hopeless. It felt like 90% of her body was covered in dried cement and she knew if she pushed, the razor sharp dagger-like feeling would come screaming back. She banged her head on the pillow. She was completely stuck. There was no way out.

Her fingers brushed up against her body, feeling around. Her moaning grew as she began to feel other parts of her body start to mobilize. Her senses regaining back to originality. She stopped as she felt something out of place. A bandage. There was a gauze-like cloth wrapped around her abdomen like it was done by a professional gift wrapper. It was tight and patched. None of this felt normal. She could feel the golden streak return back to her iris and she knew it wasn't over. She was alive. Brought back. But how? More importantly, who or what brought her here? When her fingertips touched the edges of the cloth, she gulped. None of this was a good idea.

She barely felt the tears as they dripped down her face like a warm leaky faucet. She suddenly felt cold. Her shoulders shivered as she hugged her body, still lying down. She tried all she could once again to lift herself up, but no. She dropped back onto the soft cushion of the pillow in a deep groan.

"Please don't try to get up." Her worst nightmare had come true. When she leaned on her elbows she craned her head at the doorway.

A blond man she didn't recognize was looking at her. Gazing at her in case she made any sudden abrupt ones. He was staring at her with strong eyes that made everything inside her stop moving all together. Who was he? Why did he say that? He was wearing a blazer jacket over his naked top half. She scaled his body up tracing his form as if he were a sketch pad and her eyes the pencil. She gulped again, her breathing increasing by the seconds. It was beginning to feel like small heaves. Why was she here? What was she doing alive? Her glassy eyes lifted to finally match his penetrating blue eyes. He looked way too… clean to be a kidnapper. Almost distracting enough. Then again, Ted Bundy was born. She didn't second guess overriding the notion based on appearances.

She leaned back in agony. The headaches came back, but in full force. The combination an infinity of questions, pain in her side and the strained glow in her eyes were taking its toll. And she was paying for it. She couldn't help but scream and grimace as the contractions in her mind swirled around like stirring her brain in a bowl. It felt like someone was in her head. All up inside her main brain cavity. Messing with the ability to become coherent.

She yelped extra loud this time over the groans. "Nah! Ugh, naho!"

"Shhh, its OK, relax. You're thinking about it. Relax please." She felt strong arms toughen her down, but she was flailing for her life.

Like a disorderly patient, her arms were flapping every which way. The pain in her mid-section cranked up in sheer volatile catastrophe. She couldn't help it. She can speak but only in small spurts. It wasn't getting any better. He held her arms down more prominently.

"Why did you, ugh, bring me, uh back? Why? I almost had ah, chance. Why?" She exclaimed; her voice rough and throaty.

"Calm down. Please, reacting like this is not helping you. Please. I'll, ugh, explain, ah, I'll explain it. Everything." She could hear the sound of his teeth grit down as she felt his strong harsh breath brush her face.

"Don't hur-" He covered her mouth, trying to suppress her sounds. "Mmmm."

"Please, now I'm asking nicely, calm down because all this moving around and thrashing, you're not helping yourself any." His voice was level and straight as he had an iron grip on her shoulders, holding her down as if he was glued to her. A ton of bricks kept her in place and she slowly slipped under the minimum of strength she had.

Amelia looked at him. Straight into his eyes. He could be a really pertinent actor. The screaming was unintentional. That's what people do when they're in pain. When she looked at him, somehow it seemed right. He made sense and she slowly but surely gave in. She needed answers and would try her damnedest not to call out her pain. She nodded slowly, her eyes stinging with tears again.

When he was sure, he took down his hand hovering over her a few seconds before backing away, giving her some space. He didn't want to make things worse by involving himself into this further. But she has no idea what happened the other night. She had no clue what was trotting inside his mind and how scared he was for her; and he didn't even know her. He owed her that much. There was so much she just didn't know. All this and he didn't know her name. Still...

She cleared her throat of the itchiness that smothered the inside of her vocals. She closed her eyes; more tears fell, sliding off the side onto the pillow. She was so scared she couldn't see straight. She didn't want to see anymore. She knew he probably saw and that explained why he backed away. Her eyes started to light up, a pale cerise shading around her iris. Her hand came over them instantly. She could feel them getting more heated. She knew he saw but she still wanted to hide herself. Her hand was shaking over her eyes covering the color.

"Give me my glasses. I need my glasses." She said in a hushed, shaky tone. She hoped closing them tightly was enough to shield the glow. But when she did that the heat radiated from them more.

Warren looked at her carefully. Who _is_ this girl? Why was she going to great lengths to hide herself? What he really wanted to know was why she tried to do what she did.

"Let's take things slow. Please," Warren cleared his throat, now looking at her with a much softer expression. He needed to make sure of something.

Amelia licked her lips nervously. "Why was I brought back? Who are you?" Still not removing her hand shielding her eyes.

"My name is Warren. I brought you here because I found you on the roof of my friend's house last night. I rushed you to the hospital. You were so close to—" He paused, composing his voice. "If I hadn't brought you right away, you would have been gone before I got there." He looked down as he said this. A soft undertone to his voice.

Amelia's face cracked just as the glowing had stopped. The way he said it, just—she hated it. _Oh no, not again._ She could feel the glow in her eyes again and brought her hand up before he saw.

"I don't un-understand. Why-how did you get there—" She felt his hand start to bring hers down slowly. It wasn't right. He shouldn't be doing that. He shouldn't want to see her like this. Nobody has. He can't. Not now. Not ever.

"Don't hide yourself. Look at me." He said so gently she had to strain her ear to hear him. He tipped his finger under chin, calmly lifting her face to match his. Her eyes still closed tightly as if the light in the room was too bright.

He suddenly made a move to pick up her body so she was sitting up straight and leaning onto him for support. Her body was weighty while leaning on him but he didn't care. She seemed to still have that glow in her eyes and he was wondering why in the world would she ever want to cover that up? "I can't I'm sorry."

"Try. Go on now. Open your eyes." He leaned close to her ear and whispered. "I'm not afraid of you. Please don't be afraid with me."

Amelia's breathing languished. His voice almost sounded like a lullaby. It was almost too calming, too relaxing to be real. It reminded her of a still river in the quiet south. But she just was too protective. He wouldn't understand.

"It's not you, it's me. I just can't."

"Please, don't be scared. I won't run away from you. I'm here, I promise you." More soft whispers escaped his lips and she was sinking.

But this was a new kind of feeling. Something she wasn't too familiar with. It felt good. Like warm summer in a peaceful scene. The pain in her head was disappearing expeditiously. Her mind was starting to daze. She pulled her face away, her eyes slowly opening to slits. All those years of feeling crestfallen and cast out from society and it took a few words from a stranger to lift the doubt. She was skeptical still.

"You won't run?"

"No, I won't."

She slowly removed her hand as it dropped into her lap. Her face lifting up as she held her breath. When she revealed herself she could feel the glow turn an ever paler pink shade; a carnation flicker mixed with whites.

Warren couldn't believe his own eyes as he gazed on her. The corners of his mouth were rising; he smiled slightly. "Cool."

Amelia's eyes expended, more glow came out this time. Of all things he could say, she never expected he'd say that. "You don't…think it's weird?"

Warren looked down at her hands; they were clasped together pretty tightly. He had this urge to pull her closer and closer, until there was nothing left. He reached out covering one of those hands, no more pretenses. Just organic rawness that permeated from his heart. He could feel so much of her through her hand. Even her heart speeding up by the seconds. As he held her hand her eyes were shifting. Magenta pooled through and shined on his face like a flashlight. If he didn't know anything else, he'd say that was a hell of a magic trick. But it was no trick. His thumb gently brushed the center of her palm in slow, fluid circles. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

"That is amazing. The coolest thing I've ever seen." He said genuinely with a small smile forming. "Do they always change like that?"

Amelia was having a hard time processing this as it played out. Her mouth gaping open as her eyes got even bigger, more prodigious. He wasn't scared. He didn't run. He just said her freak power cool. Amazing? Was she dreaming? Maybe this was some kind of heaven after all.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** I'd really like reviews on this one. Going into more deeply with the chapters. Thank you for reading!_

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"Thank you." Amelia said softly, taking the cup of tea her savior brought to the bed.

Warren looked between her and the tea. He couldn't get over it. He'd never seen anything more amazing. His eyes were transfixed on every inch of her as she brought the cup to her lips, sipping slowly. Her body was propped up halfway against the enormous headboard with spills of pillows lining up to support her back. Her eyes stopped that luminescent glow suddenly. Her real eye color, a golden blue now stared back at him. He missed the glow already. It was interesting how they could randomly turn off and she didn't notice.

When she set the tea on the nightstand she stared at it for a moment. She was quietly thinking about this whole thing; trying to piece together what she could remember from last night. She still has so many questions but she had no clue which ones to ask first. She took a deep breath, letting out some exhaustion. She swallowed hard, trying hard to start from somewhere, anywhere.

"What's your name?" His velvet voice woke her out of herself.

She lifted her head, finally looking at him. Her eyes began shimmering as she licked her lips. "Amelia."

Warren's eyes trailed down to her bare arms. The cuts and scars was more than enough to make him curious. Damn it he was so curious about this girl. It wasn't just him saving her, it was something else. He felt pulled to question further, even though his head was telling him otherwise. He ignored it and pushed on. He reached out again to take her hand. She was allowing him to, this was a good start. She was suddenly staring at the gesture. In her mind, a pool of emotions formed racing like plankton on the heels of a shark.

Amelia's eyes watered again but at this point, the feeling was gone. The light in her eyes began to flicker. The way he held her hand was so…she didn't have words for it. She let her eyes cry for a second more before she cleared her throat. "I need to…" She paused, his hand squeezed hers, and silently telling her it was OK to continue. But was it? She hadn't known OK for so long she had gotten so used to being afraid of everything.

Warren waited. He'd wait as long as it takes for her response. Nothing mattered. She was at the center and had his full attention. He started drawing circles on the inside of her palm, trying anything he could think of to get her to release her guard, maybe alleviate further tension.

Amelia was distracted; in all ways. She couldn't look at him, his hands were beginning to warm her body in ways the tea she drank couldn't, and she was having more difficulty getting out the words. How long would he wait for her to say something? She was probably scaring him. She was scaring herself too.

Warren leaned close to her ear when she closed her eyes. "Stay with me."

Amelia's eyes popped open, she felt his warm, silky breath illicit a strange urge inside of her. "I-I, you w-want me to, mhm, stay?"

When Warren pulled back, her eyes, the smile returned to his face as he saw a pale yellow shining out from them. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles, lulling her to a dream-like state. It was working all too well. Was she dreaming? She could feel her eyes change to a soft blue. She could feel the ocean; see the serenity of the moment dance like it could go forever. The placidity latching onto her memory like it belonged there. An eternity just upon her reaches. She could grab it, could she?

"Yes, I want you to stay." He said, with a certainty that awoke something new, a much different sensation within her.

She was so distracted by the new sensations she didn't realize just how close his face was. She blinked slowly to the fair scent of him. She moved away only slightly, clearing her throat regaining her nerves. She couldn't lose sanity now.

"W-Why?" She breathed out. That was all she could get out before her breathing sped up to an alarming rate. Her cerulean eyes opened a little wider as he moved to close the gap between them.

"Because…" his fingers rose to trace the sharp turns and curves of her scars, "I know how it feels…to wanna be somewhere else. Fighting your own battles because you were born different. I know it. I've known it _all_ my life."

Amelia took a deep heave, her eyes were confused. The glow in them died slowly. She let go of the intense feelings finally. She looked at him now with different eyes. Human starting at another human. Her eyes glowing in a brown-gold-like blaze. She heard a faint sound from his corner that almost creaked out.

And then it made sense, she had her curiosity still, "I don't understand. How do you know about this?"

"What I meant to say was—" The piercing sound of the phone rang, killing whatever anticipation she had.

Warren collapsed on the end of the bed leafing his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew who it was and didn't care to answer.

"I'm sorry, uh; I should let you get that." She said quickly which made him look up at her.

Warren ran his hands over his face as the phone continued ringing. If it kept ringing it would go directing to voice mail. Not what he needed now. He excused himself and leaped over the bed and dodged for the phone clicking it on.

As he put the receiver against his ear, there was a dial tone. He looked at it and turned around. Amelia was trying to get up again. He could see she was struggling with it heavily. He came over and knelt down beside her. She stopped and froze.

"I think you should lie down for now. You're in a lot of pain. Please don't try to sit up."

Amelia covered her eyes, she'd forgotten he already saw what she can do but she didn't want him to see it. She retracted to feeling scared again. She didn't want to be here. But there was one thing that bothered her about last night. She needed to know something.

"Can you ask you something?"

Warren didn't make a sound. He just moved to take her hand away from her eyes.

"The nearest hospital was 40 miles from where I was. How did you get me there so quickly?"

Warren sighed, his fingers lacing together with hers trying to find the right answer for that. There was only one: the truth. He took a deep breath, collecting himself. It was now.

"I wasn't lying when I said I've known those battles all my life. I need to show you something." He stood up and backed away slowly.

As he stepped back it was then when Amelia noticed just how massive the room was. The place looked more like a middle class sized house than a loft. She turned her attention back to Warren as he began stripping himself of the burly jacket and put it on the dresser. It was then she noticed his feet, the tips of something poking out.

She watched as gigantic feathers began sprouting its head from Warren's back until the tips reached against the wall. Amelia's hand instantly went to her mouth, covering a gasp as his wings pulled into his back, closing together like a swan. He was...a _mutant_?

Warren came to kneel down again, his face sheepishly bowed down. He was really worried what her reaction was going to be. He worried with anyone finding out. But she said nothing. It was quiet for a few moments until she suddenly, calmly reached for his hand, squeezing it gently as she attempted to look him in the eye.

"I don't think I've seen anything more beautiful before." With her free hand she made him face her. Her eyes glowing a carnation shade. "I thought I was alone."

Warren grinned as he rose up, curling her body from the bed in his arms. "Now you don't have to be."

She smiled for the first time, gliding her fingers through his wings, feeling the suppleness of its texture. They felt so malleable. Amazing, she was stunned with how it felt between her fingers.

"So that's how you saved me." She leaned toward his ear, closing off everything else. "I think I did have an angel after all."


	5. Chapter 5

Amelia moved to get up on her own, holding her side as she slightly dragged her body toward the bathroom. Her kinetic energy was starting to come back little by little; but only in small increments. She was between healed and healing. Though with some good news at hand, her side didn't pain her too much.

Warren noticed something in her hair, more the back part of it and walked beside her. "Would you like to take a shower? I mean, wash your hair? Here, I'll get you a towel."

When he moved to the cabinet to fetch a towel, he heard a loud crash followed by moaning. He grabbed the towels quickly and went back into the bathroom. He found Amelia curled up on the floor leaning against the tub, slumped over. His eyes flashed back to how he found her, almost eerily similar to when he first saw her last night. He could feel his nerves shivering. Just as quick as it happened he came out of the flash then instantly placed the towels on the counter. He knelt down in front of her observing her face already stained with tears.

"Do you want me to help you?" He touched her elbow, trying to get her to look at him.

Amelia groaned slightly. She felt so useless, like she couldn't do anything right. She looked at him through downcast eyes. She couldn't ignore that look in his eyes, it was bothering her. The way he was looking at her, she felt her free will bend at the sight. She accepted his hand as he helped her to her feet. "I feel so stupid."

"Don't be. I just don't want you hurting yourself." He cleared his throat, "Here, come on, sit up. I can help you do this."

Amelia's eyes, wide and meek were looking at him with confusion. "Help me shower?"

Warren grinned and blushed as he shook his head biting his lip. "W-wash your hair… Is that OK? I just—noticed there was, uh, something."

He was about to gesture at the dried color but caught himself before anything happened. She looked at him suspiciously and noticed his eyes glued to her hair. Her hands suddenly launched themselves into her hair and felt in the direction of his eyes. She touched dry, brittleness in the middle. Her eyes inflated and turned a powerful ruby shade. Dried blood. It was her own and it made her sick to her stomach.

She took a deep breath. What was she so nervous about? It wasn't like he was going to hurt her. What was he going to do? Yank her hair off until she was bald? She felt herself go cotton-mouthed, her words were twisted again and her heart began to race.

When he gazed into her eyes again, there was silence. The trance was there and she found her voice.

"O-ok. I'm sorry that—"

"It's OK, you don't have to apologize." He laughed, smirking while looking down. He peered at her through closed slit eyes. Her glow came back. A pumpkin-colored shade appearing brighter than all the rest of the colors he'd seen so far. They almost glittered; sparkling in the light as if it was almost too much to look at.

When she stood up with some assistance from him, she noticed his wings come near her, like they were beckoning outward for her hands to touch. She instinctively grasped the plushness. Almost closing her eyes until she felt the feathers come in contact with her hips. She blushed, looking to the side. He was making her flutter again. In a way, she felt like maybe she was flying inside.

She blushed, pulling away as she held onto his hands. "I'm sor-

"Don't." He breathed so only she could hear.

Her shoulders dropped, she was beginning to relax a little. Things grew quiet as she picked herself up and sat on the chair he brought.

"Have you done this before?"

He sighed, blowing out a big chunk of air. "No, this is the first time. I'm sorry if I'm doing it wrong. Just lay back." He said gently.

Amelia sat straight up so she was level with the sink, her long brown hair halfway falling inside it. She clasped her hands together as she watched him go into the shower. She had to smile a little as he fumbled with the bottles. She bit her lip and squirmed in place. The scrubs she wore became itchy on her naked skin. She poked her head to the side.

"I'll use whatever you're using. It doesn't matter." She called out, her voice raspy and strained.

Warren finally came out with a random bottle. He held it up, smiling shyly. "Just want you to be clean."

"I will be." She looked in his eyes, a soft small appearing on her lips. "I have faith in you."

Warren blushed, unscrewed the top of the bottle and set it down. He went over to the tub, turning on the water, making sure it was nice and warm. Once he was sure it was decent, he grabbed the shower head pulling it over to Amelia.

"Lean back OK? I'm sorry if I get your clothes wet, I _did_ warn you." He smirked, looking down on her before flipping the lever on the top part of the head.

"Warren, it's alright really." She told him sincerely. It was the first time she said his name. She almost sounded like a fairy, soft and feminine. He looked at her quickly then back at rinsing her hair. He squirted some shampoo into his hand and lathered up her hair, trying hard not to get any on her clothes.

When Amelia leaned even further backward he flipped back on the shower head and began rinsing her scalp. Her eyes kept close on his face. She couldn't resist saying it.

"Your face?" She asked as he rinsed away the last remaining soap from her hair.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, you're just so serious."

Warren bowed his head down and softened his expression, no doubt scaring her in the process. He was giving himself away and it was getting obvious. He looked down again as he grabbed the towel, attempting to dry her hair.

In the back of her mind something plagued her. Her lips where tight and her mind was struggling to stay focused. She stopped him.

"Warren? What happened last night? Really? How was I brought back? The feeling I had after I—" she paused a moment, collecting, "stabbed myself was so strong. Like I could feel heaven or something. I was sure I died in seconds. I need to know this. Please." She begged. She didn't know what else to do. She needed to know all the details since there was no way the hospital would let someone fatally stabbed check out so bluntly.

Warren took the towel gently from her hands and covered his palms over her trembling ones. He wasn't sure if now was the right time to tell her anything. Not even what happened. That was why he wanted her to stay, so he could think of finding some way of telling her in time. Was now the time? He didn't want to hold it in anymore. He didn't know this girl at all but they were connected. There was this furious pull he felt to want to keep her safe. She would keep asking him until he finally couldn't take it. She needed to know, no more lies.

But something stopped him. It was her eyes. They were peering back at him and he found hard to look away. He smiled, took both of his hands and laced them with hers. He really was more worried about her reaction. He was so worried to scare her and make things even worse. He just wanted her to feel better. He couldn't bring himself to form the words. The flashlight in her eyes started blinking. Her glow started to die down as she looked at him with human eyes. The X-gene was nowhere near in sight. His voice croaked as he gestured.

"Do they-they always change color like that?" He asked, her eyes shining brighter, more prominent now.

Amelia looked down, her eyes tracing the tiles on the floor as she took a deep breath. "Every time."

"They seem to change a lot around me." He said, with a twinkle in his eye.

Amelia sniffed, looking to the side. "They never used to change this much. The colors are linked to my emotions. Whatever I'm feeling, somebody sees it. It's embarrassing. That's why I need my glasses. It's the only way to hide them without tear my eyes ou-" He began to cut her off by whispering close to her ear. His lips nearly touching her lobe.

"Don't ever wish that. I want you to know how beautiful you are. You're perfect, don't forget that."

Amelia began to blush as his breath began to tickle her cheeks. "No one has ever said that to me. I feel like I'm dreaming."

He moved her damp locks behind her ear and groaned softly. "It's not a dream. You're really here. And you're safe. You can trust me."

Amelia knew her eyes were doing the blushing for her and she proudly let the reflection shine on his cheeks. "I don't think that's an option for me."

The corners of Warren's mouth rose as he brought the towel around her hair again to dry off the loose droplets that dribbled onto her clothes. She was going to catch a cold soon if she didn't get dry quickly. He ran the towel over her head gently one last time before wrapping all of her hair inside it.

Amelia was watching his every move like a lioness tracking nature upon everyday life. Her eyes came to his wings as she saw them absentmindedly curl outward until they were inches from her thigh. Her fingers felt the tips of his wings and she smirked, almost to the point of laughing.

Warren mirrored her expression, looking at her through perplexed eyes. "What?"

Amelia swallowed her words for a moment. How was she going to say this without getting laughed at? "Your, um, _hands_ , they were touching me."

"My _hands_?"

Amelia felt through the feathers and laughed as they tickled her hand. "These are so wonderful. It must be incredible to be able to fly."

She took the towel off her head and scratched her scalp letting her hair loosely dry and hang out. She glanced back at him and the blush crept up her cheeks.

"When you're better, I'll show you how it feels one day." Warren said, with honey to his tone.

As she looked down he used this moment to bring his wings closer, so they were almost cocooning around her. The heat permeating off her body was almost burning his wings, even without contact. He singed backward as he took a breath.

Her eyes sparked a golden star and shifted to a strong yellow. "I only wish it was now. But I kind of don't wanna leave this. I already feel so much better. Thank you, Warren. I'll never know what I did to deserve this. I think you dropped out of the sky and into my life for a reason."

"You are my reason." Warren brought his hand to caress her cheek. He could feel his pulse speed away and he knew he had to ease everything. Giving himself away again.

Before she asked any further questions he thought it best to change the subject and offer her help stand up. His wings retracted back to his shoulder blades and she instantly cold as the dampness of her hair awoke her from the sudden cave of warmth she'd gotten used to. Warren immediately went to scoop her back but she held her hand on his chest gingerly.

"Oh thanks, but I think I can try to do it." She did however hold his hands as he helped her up only a little.

She stood finally with success but he was steadying her so she couldn't easily tumble. She sure was fragile enough. If he left for a second she would crumble. He was certain of that much. But he knew what she needed because he was feeling it too. First things first.

"Are you hungry?" Warren asked when she limped slightly to the door.

Amelia turned around and she felt her stomach grumble. That was supposedly the trigger. She bowed her head down, nodding.


End file.
